


you'd like to captain a capsized ship (but I like watching you live)

by thinkatory



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Comment Fic, Episode Related, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-23 01:23:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/920348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinkatory/pseuds/thinkatory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An introspective piece. What went through Juliet's mind in the trailer at the end of S1? <i>There has to be something she can do. If only she could think. The rain is pelting against the windows of the trailer and the only thing she can think to do is escape.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	you'd like to captain a capsized ship (but I like watching you live)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Jonathan by Fiona Apple.

Whoa. No.

 

No, this isn't happening. Juliet Silverton, fucking Doctor Juliette Silverton is not watching her boyfriend maybe eventual fiance totally crack up with cryptozoological fantasies, no, no, no. The man she loves isn't crazy, can't be crazy, he's a cop, he's -- 

 

No.

 

Her head is spinning with the effort of trying not to reach out to him, to talk, because then that would be recognizing that this is happening and this can't be happening, because Nick is a _good guy_ , a real guy, a normal guy who is the best guy she's ever met and -- 

 

She can't breathe.

 

"Nick," she tries, but it chokes back in her throat and he's too busy spouting off German-sounding words and rummaging through books. 

 

_Nick, I knew you were a cop. I knew there would be late nights and missed dinners and everything else, okay, but now there are guys literally breaking into our house coming after you and crazy twenty-somethings trying to kill me and you're having a psychotic break._

 

_Nick, I can't do this._

 

_I can't do this._

 

But she can't make herself move or leave him because he's it. All she wants in life is some animals to look after, her family, and Nick, not in that order. And this isn't Nick. This is some wild-eyed, sleepless man whose aunt died and left the thoroughly orphaned boy with a bunch of books to fantasize over and crazy stories about heroic extended family from the Old Country to obsess on.

 

  
_Come back_ , she wants to cry to him. _Stop this._  


 

There has to be something she can do. If only she could think. The rain is pelting against the windows of the trailer and the only thing she can think to do is escape.

 

The rain is a welcome shock, warms her and makes her clothes stick to her, and she hugs her arms to herself, shuddering out a breath as tears press against the corner of her eyes. The rain nearly distracts her from the guilt from the resentment from the thought she can't fight.

 

  
_I didn't sign up for this. For him. I didn't sign up for this baggage, Nick --_  

 

But he's coming out of the trailer, and she refuses to let her see him cry. Not now. Not this Nick.

 

"You need help," is all she says. All she can say, in good confidence, in case her Nick is still in there.


End file.
